The Results of Sleepless Nights
by alpha Jade Hunter
Summary: What does Gaara do during the night when others sleep, and who is his admirer? Rating is just to be safe. Spoiler: there's no sex involved


Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto... all I own is a kettle and a bed so no suing.

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><p>The Results of Sleepless Nights:<p>

It was hot. That was the overwhelming thought that ran through the head of the usually hyperactive ninja occupying the single bed room of

an inn so close to the edge of town that you could see the sands shift from the window. This was the first night after his arrival to the village

hidden in the sand and he was beginning to wonder why he had thought that he would be able to sleep. Sure, it was still fairly early, but he had

just spent a very long day running over hot sand and, despite what the others might think, his energy wasn't limitless. All he wanted was a long

hot bath and a good night's sleep before he had to meet with the new Kazekage in the morning. While the bath had indeed been long and hot,

the good nights sleep had been proving itself elusive due to the heat. It wasn't that he held any particular grudge against the then psychotic

youth. On the contrary, he had never really been able to hold a grudge for long, not even from having his heart broken by a certain pink haired girl.

He sighed as he rolled over again, grimacing at the feel of the sweat drenched sheets, before finally swinging his feet over the edge of the bed

and walking over to the window in hopes of a stay breeze or if not a breeze, something to take his mind off of the thoughts that had been running

through his head since the Hokage had called him into her office in order to tell him of the important diplomatic message he was to deliver.

Despite what the others might think, he knew that many found his antics hard to take, which leads him to contemplate why the Hokage chose

him to carry the message rather than someone like Neji, someone quiet and serious, who has experience with diplomacy and politics. He never

really believed her when see claimed that it was due to his stamina and speed; there were others… no… the reason was much more subtle than

that. Obviously the Hokage was hoping that by sending me it remind those involved of the events of the chunin exams, and therefore prompt them

to be more accommodating to the Hokage's requests. He leaned against the window frame and gazed out across the desert. He might not have

any great interest in politics but he wasn't stupid, he realized that he was being used to guilt the young Kazekage.

He sighed again and glanced back at his bed, but now he was much too awake, for all that he was still physically exhausted, his mind much

too busy with the thoughts he had been trying to ignore for the better part of the day. He was happy for the opportunity to escape the current

tensions back in village, for a short while at least, and he was even looking forward to seeing the young redhead once again. That, however, was

the problem that he had been trying to avoid thinking about. He had always admired the young redhead, despite the violence of their encounter

he had seen a loneliness there that reminded him of himself growing up, ridiculed and alone, and made him want to reach out. Despite the

necessity of the fight and his drive to succeed, he could not help but feel sad that the boy was so untouchable. He had spent much of the recovery

afterwards thinking of what life would be like without having anyone to touch you or accept your touches without fear. He realized then that there

were worse things than ridicule and scorn. Sometimes he would think that he could still be saved, still learn to give and to receive those small

everyday touches that he had never valued so much as he did now knowing that there were people who could not accept such touches, but other

times he would remember the way the redhead looked surrounded by sand and glaring out at the world, and wonder if there was any softness left

there, and if the boy would recognize a friendly touch and trust enough to let it through. He honestly couldn't wait to see him again, but he didn't

know whether the Kazekage would want to see him, and why did that matter so much to him. He did not want to cause the guilt that his presence

was intended to cause, he has had enough pain in his life. Unfortunately he was a loyal ninja of the leaf and he could not fail to complete the

mission that was given to him.

It had gotten quite dark now, while he had been contemplating his presence here, perhaps he could try sleeping again now that it was a

little bit cooler. He started to turn from the window, not that he had been really looking at anything in particular, when he saw something out in

the desert. It was only a flicker of movement, caught out of the corner of his eye, but somehow it caught his attention. He turned his head back

and just caught the object of his thoughts disappearing over a sand dune. He froze, considering, all he really wanted was to crawl into bed and

take advantage of the slowly dropping temperature, and yet he couldn't help but continue to gaze at the point where the young Kazekage had

disappeared from sight. Part of him wanted to follow after the redhead, see what it was that he did while everyone else would sleep, but a larger

part wondered if he would kill him for following. However, despite the danger and his better judgement, he still found himself slipping out his

window and jumping from roof to roof until he reached the edge of the village. At that point he realized that not only was he doing a potentially

very stupid and dangerous thing, he was also doing it in the dark grey pyjamas that he had borrowed from the innkeeper.

Just as he was about to head back to the inn and forget about the fact that he had just gone chasing after the, at times homicidal, leader of

the sand, in his borrowed nightclothes, when he saw the sand start to swirl and crest on the horizon, and instead found himself moving forward

for a better look. At first he thought that the redhead must have left the village to train with his sand in the desert, but as he got closer he began

to recognize shapes and patterns in the sand. The one that he was looking for was sitting on the edge of a boulder with his legs drawn up,

watching the sand dance before him.

And the sand really was dancing. He could see figures forming, coming together and dancing to their own music. Again and again the figures

formed and danced and merged again. There were so many dancers twirling around that he could not even start to count them before the whirling

movement made him doubt his numbers. Then just as he was starting to get over his awe at such an awesome and unexpected sight, he saw a

figure disconnect itself from all of the others and offer its hand to the seated redhead. He wasn't sure if he was seeing correctly, but he could have

sworn that the figure was shaped like him. The lithe sand wielder hopped down and took the offered hand, and together they moved out among

the other dancers.

He found himself transfixed by the sight. Out under the desert moon the young man many called monster, dancing in a crowd of his own

making. It was the most beautiful and the loneliest thing he had ever seen. It made him want to laugh, to cry, to reach out his own hand and lead

and be led, touch and be touched, to fill the void that was there despite the sheer numbers of figures dancing under the moon.

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><p>Authors Note: This is my first ever fanfiction story, so I would love to hear from people. Right now this is a oneshot but if people ask for more<p>

chapters I would be more than happy to give it a shot. Any ideas would be helpful as well. Cookies to those who guess the POV.


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